Pushback against transgender Olympians is fueled by sexism
TOKYO — Did you blink and miss it? The moment that women’s sports was destroyed?
A frothing right wing had predicted that the legitimacy of women’s sports would be forever undermined by the participation of a transgender woman at the Tokyo Olympics.
Oops. Didn’t quite happen that way.
Monday was an interesting night at the Olympics. In downtown Tokyo, an overflow of media crammed into the weightlifting venue, to witness New Zealand weightlifter Laurel Hubbard become the first transgender woman to compete in the Olympics. It was quite a zoo.
Two hours north, Canadian starting midfielder Quinn played a semifinal at Kashima Stadium in front of only a handful of observers. Quinn, a transgender nonbinary athlete,
identifying as neither male nor female, will be the first transgender athlete to compete for a gold medal on Friday.
Why one athlete got all the attention and one very little tells you what you need to know about this socalled “hot button” issue. The issue really isn’t about transgender athletes.
It’s all about sexism. No matter how the genders and identities shake out, the common bond is a dismissal of the ability of female athletes.
Hubbard, assigned male at birth, bombed out of the Olympics, failing to complete a successful lift. Her quick departure left the frantic tabloids grasping rather than regurgitate the tale of outrage they had hoped to deliver again.
Three young women took the medals: China’s Li Wen Wen, 21, won gold, Great Britain’s Emily Jade Campbell, 27, took silver, and American Sarah Robles, 33, took bronze.
That disrupted the assumption that those assigned male at birth are naturally superior at sports. Period. And it's not like anyone is transitioning to try to dominate women's sports. The process is personal, complicated and a longterm decision.
Afterward, the introverted Hubbard, 43, said she would retire. More than 20 years after transitioning, she has no interest in carrying this banner forward.
“While I recognize that my involvement in sport is a topic of considerable interest to some,” said Hubbard, “in some ways I’m looking forward to this being the end of my journey as an athlete and the attention that comes from it.”
Quinn’s journey is still going, and they embrace their ability to make an impact.
“I’m getting messages from younger folks that they’ve never seen a trans person in sports before,” Quinn said. “Getting to be that person that hopefully helps them continue on is an honor. If my legacy is to keep kids playing sports, that’s what I’m here for.”
Quinn’s presence hasn’t created nearly the controversy as Hubbard’s. Athletes transitioning between genders doesn’t seem to be the issue as much as infantilizing female athletes and what they can handle.
Hubbard took testosterone suppressants to conform to IOC rules. But her original male hormones didn’t automatically make her better than her competition. The women who won were younger and stronger and, by all accounts, unbothered by Hubbard being one of their competitors.
Quinn, in contrast, is the kind of transgender athlete who isn’t spurring a red state senator to draft wedgeissue legislation. Assigned female at birth and having played as female at Duke and for Canada at the Rio Olympics, Quinn has transitioned in recent years. They identify as nonbinary.
They aren’t a threat because the people trying to create a controversy — where one doesn’t exist — don’t care about women transitioning.
“The institution of sports has deeply entrenched sexist notions of who is a good athlete,” transgender track athlete Chris Mosier told me recently. “The stereotype that’s widely accepted is that those assigned female at birth can’t be as competitive. People have homed in on the idea of testosterone being the it factor for sports. It continues these misogynistic notions around athletes and the further policing of women’s bodies.”
These have become the mental health Olympics, with the issues of self care and recognition at the forefront. The inclusion of transgender athletes at the Olympics and the resulting demonization of them are another part of that story line.
“I’m not sure a role model is something I could aspire to be,” Hubbard said. “I hope by just being here, I can provide some sense of encouragement.
“We are human. As such, I hope that just being here is enough.”